


Relentless

by tzigane, Zaganthi (Caffiends)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Gangbang, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 05:57:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tzigane/pseuds/tzigane, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiends/pseuds/Zaganthi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I can do anything I want?" He circled around Watson, and crouched down to untie the necktie. "Christ. I'm going to turn you into a begging cumslut, Captain."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Relentless

**Author's Note:**

> I have two co-authors who humor me when I want to write the same story twice; Another version of [All For One ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/508727).

Jim had promised him a beautiful gift.

An end to a lot of strain and fuss and some of the more dangerous things they'd embarked on, not the fun dangerous but the stupid dangerous, the kind that didn't yield great gains but mostly rubbed shit in the face of Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective, trying to bait him into attacking or failing to catch a trick. Frankly, he'd caught too many tricks, and the idea of a beautiful gift that ended all of that was... Appealing, Bastian had to admit.

He'd liked things B.H, before Holmes.

Still, it didn't explain why there was a solidly built naked man strapped over a massive leather bench. Bastian lingered, looking at the line of his body, the way he was thrashing in the bonds, and tapped fingers against the clear buttplug that was filling his ass. He turned his head around, and it all made sense, suddenly. The man's straining red face and the gag knotted tight into his mouth, a purple necktie that he'd never seen in Jim's closet. John Watson, all trussed up like a Christmas goose.

"Isn't it lovely? So fresh and unspoiled, and I know you've been wanting something brand-new to play with, darling, ever since the unfortunate incident with Irene's pretty piece." Yes, well. Pretty piece, indeed, and Bastian wouldn't define it as an _unfortunate incident_ so much as Jim refusing to share his toys, even if it meant destroying someone else's.

The sound of Watson muttering darkly, angrily, behind his gag did nothing whatsoever to lessen his desire. He reached down, pulled at his dick through his slacks, and circled the bench slowly. "And Holmes is here as well? That's not your necktie."

That smile was one he knew amazingly well. It was usually a sign that something had gone astonishingly to spec, that Jim Moriarty had done something that Capital M, Consulting Criminal would take pride in having accomplished. It also usually meant someone was painfully, horribly dead. Very likely in a manner that would horrify the despots running third world countries. "So delicious, really. I do believe that you will enjoy this, Basty."

"I can do anything I want?" He circled around Watson, and crouched down to untie the necktie. "Christ. I'm going to turn you into a begging cumslut, Captain."

The furious mutterings behind the gag did sound quite to his liking. He struggled, fighting against the bindings, and it was quite nice to see. It was even more interesting to see the lurking presence of Sherlock Holmes, genius on the side of the angels, lingering in the shadows.

Fine. He could stand there and watch, because he wasn't moving to stop them. Bastian got the knot undone, stayed face to face with Watson. "Have you ever been fisted, Captain?"

"Fuck you, you, you buggering pervert!" Yes, well, he was exactly that, he supposed.

Jim laughed, off-key and lilting. "Oh, and I can only imagine he bites. Probably hard enough to bite something right off, but then, there are ways around that, aren't there? So many. Sherlock here had quite a few suggestions."

He started to chuckle at the widening of the man's eyes, and instead leaned past him, knelt up, and pulled at the edge of the wide plug in his ass. "Tell me, did you volunteer to be split in half, or were you coerced?"

Watching him, seeing the way his back moved, the way he tried to move, anyway, told Bastian a great deal more than John Watson very likely wanted him to know. For one thing, he was enjoying himself quite a bit more than he would have liked anyone to know. For another, he clearly was no stranger to someone playing with him just so.

It made him wonder if Sherlock Holmes had a sex drive anything like Jim's -- ostentatiously overactive, present in a ridiculous number of his current thoughts on any given day. It was a good thing that Jim was so intelligent; otherwise, his entire life would be spent thinking of his next lay.

"He volunteered. Well, more or less." The shock of hearing that voice speak up made Bastian glance up, and made Watson growl.

"Volunteered!"

"Good. Excellent. Well, let it all hang out, Watson." He popped the butt plug out crooked, fingers toying with the man's stretched out rim. "Just the three of us, then?"

Jim strolled over, one hand resting on the small of that back. "Well. You know how very much I don't like sharing. Of course, we could call someone. I feel sure that our dear little virgin in the shadows would love to see it." His eyes rounded, mouth forming an o of false surprise. "Except, my goodness. Not a virgin after all. Just... what? Undersexed?"

"Waxing and waning interest levels." Sherlock had his hands tucked into his pockets as he came closer. "I have a friend on his way as well. You don't have to worry about him mouthing off, he won't be with us for much longer. Cancer, undiagnosed, but I sense an assisted suicide coming."

The way that Jim clasped his hands together in delight might have worried Bastian if he weren't utterly certain that two weeks of them trying to one-up one another would end in a sincere lack of sex, and Jim hated nothing more than a lack of sex except for boredom. "How sweet. Isn't it sweet, Basty, isn't it lovely? Isn't it simply purrrrrrfect?" The way he asked it was silly and meant to be. "Why don't you see if Hedgson wants to come as well? And his entire cadre."

Ah, Hedgson. Too sure of his place in their organization, and Bastian had been looking for a way to get rid of him and the handful of guys they generally used for the more blunted and idiot-proof crimes.

He curled a finger into Watson's ass, dry, watched the man's eyes close in reflexive pleasure. He fished out his own cell phone, and made the call. He gave clear instructions to the man -- the address, and to bring the crew. And condoms. "That's six guys. And Sherlock's makes seven. And I'm eight. How loose do you want to be before the boys all get here, then?"

"Oh my god." His voice shook, faint and barely heard, and it was obvious that the thought alone was enough to make him hard and hot and even more wanton than he already was.

Holmes's voice was edged with something when he spoke. "You're going to take them all, John. Without complaint. As many times as they want." 

Fuck, that was a familiar sort of moment for Bastian, and it was obvious who was pulling Watson's strings. He stood up. "I'll just get what I need from the car boot, then."

He could see the way that Jim settled in, just far enough away from Holmes that he figured they wouldn't kill one another while he was gone. It made him want to assure them that they were both the prettiest, no need to commit homicide, but... well. Jim could at least fight back well enough to prevent Holmes from killing him while he was gone, and would likely manage to save himself, so Bastian gave a mental shrug and headed for the car.

He didn't waste a lot of time rummaging around in the boot -- he did keep supplies, and he rummaged around in the tools for a moment as well, settling on a hammer with a nice thick handle and ribbed grip. Mostly because he wanted to see the look on Watson's face, and the tire iron just wasn't honestly as funny. Plus, there was one point in having someone in his current position -- having him by as many people as possible, and the tire iron would most likely make that difficult. He scrounged up a few other things -- screwdriver, at least one battery-operated device that was tucked in the glovebox because Jim was a teasing little shit, and he knew how much Bastian liked to see him with his ass full while he wanked himself stupid in the passenger seat.

It was enough, and it was interesting to Bastian to stalk back into the warehouse and plan to get to work on the man though he checked first to see where Jim was in the room. His position was unsurprising, he supposed, because he was a fair four feet away from Sherlock Holmes, but both of them had arranged to be available for the best view of what was about to happen. It only figured that would be the case, but it made him wonder what sorts of machinations he had missed in the mean time. They were both too quiet for him not to have missed something.

Bastian wandered back in, behind Watson, and carefully set the hammer on the man's bare back first. "Did I miss anything interesting, Captain?"

"Oh, you fucking know you did, you bastard!" Snarled, yes, vicious and he was pulling at the ropes holding him in place as though it would get him anywhere.

"I told you he was lovely this way." The conversational tone would have frightened anyone else.

Bastian didn't need to look up to see Jim's face. He knew all of his expressions, knew exactly how he would lean forward, gaze sharp and gleaming. "I didn't doubt you about that. Other things, yes. This, no."

"Is there any particular reason you're screaming, buddy? We're all right here, you know," he commented in a quiet drawl, setting the dildo and the screwdriver there as well. "I might see if we can keep you around as a side table."

"Besides." Jim's voice held a quality, the one he got just before a movie started, hushed and full of expectation. "It isn't as though he won't enjoy it."

"I'll be keeping John," Sherlock murmured, and Bastian wondered how it was a question if he would or he wouldn't. "But I suspect I'll bring him over to play, now and again."

Christ that sounded good. He smeared a little lube over his fingertips, before sliding two into John, deep. His back arched in reaction, and anyone might think that he was getting away from it. Bastian felt the clench of it, though, could see the indrawn breath, the way his lips parted before he bit down hard on his lip as though that could somehow hide the fact that it made him shiver like a slut.

"When was the last time you got fucked?" He stroked his other hand over one firm ass cheek, twisting his fingers lazily. Now there was just the question of what kind of slut the man was -- not whether or not he was one because clearly that was a moot point. He was sweaty and struggling, except it wasn't struggling to get away so much as it was struggling to get more, and Bastian couldn't help grinning.

"Another five minutes, perhaps, before the first of our company arrives. I'm so delighted you decided to show your true face."

"I've always shown it," Sherlock muttered behind him. "You simply chose not to see."

That shit again. Bastian squeezed the captain's ass cheek tightly, and reached to lift the hammer off of his back. "I asked you a question, Watson."

God, and that was lovely. His ass was still open and greedy, and it made him wonder what Holmes had done to him before he arrived. "Why don't you ask _him_?" Him, and it was funny that he didn't mean Jim by that.

He rolled his eyes, and looked back towards Holmes. "I'm curious -- when was this lovely piece last fucked?" He smoothly lubed up the handle of the hammer, and just pressed the base of the handle against Watson's ass.

"Isn't it obvious?" Why was it that the bastard always sounded as though he were trying to use the cut glass crystal of someone else's stupidity to stab them to death?

Jim sounded put out. "Oh, honestly, the point is for you to say all of the filthy things that will turn them on. I begin to doubt that you have fucked him."

"Fuck's sake!" The yell came from Watson, and he was struggling, but not too much.

"Maybe Jim can train him," Bastian assured, pressing the handle halfway into his ass in a smooth motion. He kept a hold of it, but it was very workmanlike, very pleasing to look at as he worked it carefully in and out of the man, and god but it got him a reaction, a buck of the hips and body that made it undeniable that this was a man who'd been well-fucked and recently.

He hoped for Watson's face that Holmes was hung like a horse because he could hear Hedgson or someone coming down the hallway, and he'd damned sure better be preparing himself.

He pulled out the hammer and set it aside for the moment because he was getting first shot and he might as well enjoy it. He'd get back with tools and equipment afterwards, and there was always the man's mouth. "Sounds like it's time to start this off, then. I hope you're hungry, because you're going to get stuffed with a lot of cock."

"I'll bite it off!"

Yeah, not so much with that. He'd figure out something, and then he realized that Holmes was walking forwards, motions sharp, machine precision. He knelt down and took Watson's chin in his hand, and for a moment, Bastian wasn't entirely sure what he was going to do. "You will do exactly as you are told, John. And you will enjoy it, and you will have your reward when we go home." Reward. Fuck, he could almost see the man squirming like he had a tail to wag in response to that suggestion. He started to unzip his trousers, watching them.

"Isn't it charming?" Jim nearly skipped forwards as the door opened. "I told you I needed a live-in one." He looked sulky, and Hedgson and his boys were beginning to troop in, a bit twitchy at the edges.

"Sir?"

"Just loiter along the back wall. You get to have a go at this poor bastard after I'm done with him. All of you." Bastian took his time reaching into his trousers, stroking his cock idly as he reached for a condom from where it was resting on Watson's back. Sherlock seemed secure that John would do as he was told, and moved to resume his previous position.

It was a shame, honestly, that they hadn't thought to set up video. Then again, he'd been gone for quite some time, and it was always possible that the two of them had somehow managed to pull something together from nothing in the mean time.

The mutters of approval were barely audible, but then, they were all rightly scared as fuck of Jim, and Jim was standing there looking like he might pull out a sharp object and have his wicked way with them if they moved in any way of which he disapproved.

So Bastian took his time, stroking himself to full hardness, easing the condom over his dick. There wasn't much sense in foreplay, given that John was going to end up opened up wider than he'd ever thought about it, buttplug in his ass when he'd first arrived or not. "Look at you. If I'd known you were that much of a slut when you passed through my unit, I never would've let you go anywhere..."

Oh, that got his attention, head jerking up, flush of humiliation staining those cheeks. It was amusing that the position in which he found himself didn't make him feel that way, but a single comment did. "I...."

"You could've warmed my bunk," Sebastian murmured, smirking. He reached out and smacked his ass. "It would've been a different hazard pay, but well worth it."

Worth it, and John gasped, rocking into that touch. It was a lovely thought, though he could feel the seething possessiveness coming from Holmes even from his shadowed nook. Ah, well, it was clearly turning on a couple of Hedgson's guys even if a couple of them seemed somewhat uncomfortable.

"Any time now, Colonel." Jim's voice was deep and rich with desire, and it made the two who seemed uncomfortable flinch. Amazing that any of them had something like instinct, considering their general idiocy.

"Well, it's not like I won't see you around again. And again. And again." He slicked over the condom, and shifted, kneeling behind the stool to line himself up. The height was really comfortable and perfect. Jim was nothing if not a planner.

The warm clasp of him was fucking good, definitely well-stretched, and he wondered what Holmes had done before they had ever gotten there. It was an interesting idea, and the notion of what it might have taken to get him that loose made Bastian hum with pleasure.

"How lovely."

He gave slow hard thrusts, taking his time pulling back before pushing back in hard. "Mmm, Christ, did he fist you? I can imagine what that looked like, you spitted on his arm like a pig."

Muttering from the peanut gallery, and he could see Hedgson getting twitchy, wanting to step forwards and take part. It was unsurprising when he heard Jim murmur an invitation to him, and yeah. Yeah, that was it, they seemed to have taken a fair idea of where it was going, because there was a gag with a ring, convenient for fucking his throat, and some of them were getting in a rough line on either end of him.

He hoped to fucking god there was video. He wanted to wear the replay thin, he wanted to watch John Watson, fucking wanna be saint among men, get spitted from both ends, pounded and begging for more, begging to be used. He dug his fingers tightly into John's hips, falling into a nice rocking pounding, and he met no resistance. Maybe he should have checked him, seen whether or not he was drugged, but if he were completely honest about it (and, well, there was no point in being otherwise, was there?), he really didn't give a fuck. If anything, that had its attraction as well, and Bastian was far from being a deeply moral sort of man.

Still, he was pretty sure that Watson was into it. He had to have some sort of knife twist of perversity to be keeping up with Holmes, to make it through. That was probably it. He twisted his hips, felt Watson squeeze around him, and groaned. "Fuck yeah, you're an excellent fuck. Jesus..." Jesus, it was just good. Maybe not Jim good, but then, nobody else took it like Jim, although John, well. Another good slam and a shudder of noise, and yeah. He might be a fucking close second.

Hedgson had managed to shove the gag in his mouth by then, enough that he could stuff his cock in, anyway, and he could feel it when Watson choked around it, trying desperately to breathe through his nose.

He started to thrust harder then, balls slapping against skin, rocking him forward onto the dick that was choking him. "Christ, we're keeping you. You should see your ass. Just enough jiggle..."

"Yes, yes." Holmes sounded almost bored. "This is nothing new, can't you make him go any faster?"

Jim gave a huff of breath. "Honestly, you need to gain some appreciation for art."

Or sex. Seb looked sideways at Jim, watched him adjust himself, and started to thrust harder. "It's not my fault you left him gaping for it."

Wanting it and yeah. Yeah, Watson was definitely fucking back to him now, clearly getting into it, and damn but this was one for the books. He hoped this wouldn't be the last time, either. Fucking him with a line behind him was quite a pleasant thought, pleasant enough that Bastian began rutting into him with the full intention of coming as soon as possible.

He rode Watson's ass down like an anonymous back room fuck, but knowing he could circle back for more. He had _tools_ and things he wanted to do, and he wanted to watch them use and fuck Watson as well, until he was a mess of lube and drool, and it was with that image in mind that he finally got off.

It took him a moment after that to pull himself together, reach down and grasp the condom as he pulled out of him. It couldn't have been a full thirty seconds before the next man was sidling into his position, getting himself into Watson's ass again, and mmm. That was a lovely fucking sight, enough so that he wanted to enjoy it, but he had other plans. Better plans, and he could practically see Jim jittering in the shadows beside Holmes.

He slid off the condom, and tucked himself away as he walked towards Jim with a purpose. He was good at reading Jim, and just then, Jim's posture said he wanted something safe to use, and he wanted to show off. That was unsurprising; Jim liked showing off, liked showing him to other people, liked people knowing that Bastian belonged to him and he could do with him as he liked. Didn't matter that he was a master at topping from below; nobody got to see that but Bastian, or at least he was pretty sure he was the only one. Either way, it didn't matter because he dropped to his knees in front of JIm and wasn't surprised when fingers threaded through his hair, fisting near the back of his head.

"Mhmn." He swallowed, leaned in and pressed his mouth against the line of the man's zipper, feeling the warmth against his mouth. The jump of his cock could nearly be felt through the line of his ridiculously expensive trousers, and Bastian gazed up at him flirtatiously as he drew down the zip with his teeth, careful of his lips and tongue. Jim was watching Watson get fucked like a hawk, gaze flitting to the side occasionally and down to Bastian on his knees. Bastian didn't care if Jim was watching him or not, because it was familiar, easy. He mouthed at Jim through his pants, got his tongue in against bare skin. Yeah, that was... mmm, nice, hot and hard and just a bit musty, and he breathed it in and took him deep, enjoying the deep, shuddery sigh that he let loose in response. God, he loved this. He loved the way Jim's fingers flexed, steered him as he pressed his tongue along the underside, swallowing and mostly focusing on proving suction and wet heat. Drawing it out as long as possible was what he wanted to do, and he didn't bother looking behind him. He could hear Jim and Holmes talking about it, about how they were fucking Watson, giving them points and taking them away based on some sort of system that the two of them had apparently decided upon in some genius world. An offhand comment let him know that there would be video, and that was quite enough to induce him to better damned sucking, a hand coming up to rub at Jim's balls through his trousers, making him hiss with the pleasure of it.

He hummed against Jim's skin, swallowing and starting to work up a good sucking slurp. Jim liked it messy and loud and wet, liked to feel a lot. Liked his mouth, and the way that his hand tugged, thumb rubbing at the edge of Bastian's aching jaw, made him moan. He was getting hard again, dick pressing against the placket of his trousers, and yeah. This was going to be one hell of a great night.

Sherlock's voice was devoid of anything resembling emotion when he spoke. "He's going to be a mess."

The way Jim grunted was annoyed. "Yes. That was what you wanted, after all."

He wanted to point out that Watson clearly fucking loved it, from the noises he'd made, but it was hard to talk while he was working to swallow Jim deep, pulling back just to catch his breath before taking Jim in again. Fingers clenched in his hair and Jim gave a sound that he was most familiar with hearing in their bedroom or perhaps their kitchen. Maybe sometimes their bathroom.... and the occasional rooftop.

Possibly the back of the occasional car.

"Oh, honey, ye-" Oh. Yes. Mmmm.

He loved the noises Jim made, savoured them, wanted more swallowed moans and encouragements out of him, so he sucked harder, slurped more, trying to pull Jim's orgasm out of him more than the fingers in his hair were controlling him. It wasn't all that surprising when he found that he had earned himself a mouthful, and he swallowed, fingers wrapped around Jim's ankle, and sometimes it amazed him how very much he wanted him, how he wanted to bowl him over and fuck him completely blind right here and now. He leaned away, sliding Jim back into his trousers instead, even if he had to take a moment to steady himself against Jim's hip. "Christ, I want to fuck you."

"Later, darling." Always the little pet names, and even so, Bastian hadn't dared say it loudly. "Watch the last one finish off things and then it might be up for discussion."

In other words, get his shit together because he could see Jim's hand flexing at its side, didn't have to look to know that Holmes had his hand on a pistol and it was almost time.

He groaned a little, but turned around, watching intently from his spot kneeling on the floor. Those poor bastards had no idea what was coming after their orgy, and Hedgson was last in line, him and one other fellow, down to last shaky thrusts and moans while the others stood nearby, smoking as though this were some sort of reward and not an execution.

Surely they had to know that it didn't go like that. That no one got to play with daddy's playthings, even secondhand. Bastian stayed knelt up, waiting, ready. Completely ready. He didn't even need a pistol just then, because there was an enjoyment in getting his hands dirty.

The way Jim relaxed suddenly when Watson panted out his last, shuddering beneath them as they stood up, was signal enough. He was filthy and fucked out and gorgeous, and Bastian thought he might look even better with a bit of blood spatter.

Bastian stood up slowly, reaching for the hammer in a casual way, smooth, twiddling it as he walked, grinning, like he planned to make use of it on Watson. He could tell from the way Hedgson's mouth twitched that he was absolutely certain of what came next, and it was going to be such a fucking delight to abuse him of that notion. He didn't imagine the sound of the safety flicking into the appropriate position, and his grin widened every step of the way. One of Hedgson's crew was stepping away, and clearly he had better instincts than the rest of them.

"Anytime now, honey. Daddy's waiting!" Jim sing-songed behind him.

He lifted a hand to Jim in acknowledgement, and kept his eyes on Watson before he smoothly sidestepped and buried the hammer head in Hedgson's temple.

Everything after that was smooth, easy. Wherever Holmes had gotten the silencer, it was a pretty good one. The sound of Jim's laughter was probably more terrifying, and they were dropping like flies, Watson yelling like a madman around the ring gag in his mouth.

It felt better than the sex. He went low for the next one, hitting the man in his kneecaps as he turned to run, and then finished him with a quick smack to the base of his skull.

God, he loved his fucking job. By the time they were all dead, Holmes was loosing the ties holding down Watson and Jim was licking thoughtfully at a blood drop on the side of his hand. Bastian sighed and shook his head, because honestly. That was filthy.

"You don't know where they've been," Bastian muttered, leaning back on his knees and gathering himself for a moment. He knew where everything was that he needed to start cleaning up. Plastic sheeting and garbage bags and lye and bleach.

"Hmm." It wasn't a noise of agreement, mostly just an acknowledgment of the statement.

"You fucker." Watson was scowling, and that statement was, amusingly enough, made to Holmes.

"You knew I would," Holmes murmured in bare response, looking bored as he waited for John to get up. 

"Don't suppose anyone's going to help me with the bodies." It was more of a statement than a question from Bastian, as a particular feeling of ease settled over him.

Jim scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. Of course I won't help you with the bodies."

"I know, I know. Dirty work." He waved a hand, and started to get up, leaving his hammer there by the last body. Still, there was a rhythm to that as much as there was to a gang bang.

It was something of a surprise when Watson spoke, tired but audible. "Perhaps next time. When I haven't been fucked by over half a dozen people." Huh. Well. If nothing else, this was going to prove interesting.


End file.
